You Gonna Get Reaped
by Naria Lacour de Fanel
Summary: Undertaker has an interesting client that he must harvest. CRACK. AU/AR Cross


Title: You Gonna Get Reaped

Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel

Pairing: Implied Undertaker+ Uchiha Itachi if you squint

Crossover/ AU?

Warning: Spoiler for Naruto as to what happens to Itachi. Spoiler for Kuroshitsuji on Undertaker's identity. Hints of shinigami-centric fandoms (Yami no Matsuei, Zombie Loan) And general heresy.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned, nor do I own Kuroshitsuji, Naruto, Zombie Loan, or Yami no Matsuei! I make no money from writing this!

A/N: This piece of crack was born from a conversation with sandmich under duress about some plushies she had made for me and their tendencies to wind up unclothed and on top of one another. Magically.

* * *

The silver haired madman smirked cheerfully as he waited for his prey to finally come to him. He could be patient so long as he wasn't bored. Fortunately, it was anything but boring to watch these shinobi, as they called themselves. They commonly came to their ends with all the dramatic flair of a stage musical. Some niggling voice in the back of his mind told him that this type of fighter was traditionally stealthy and discrete, but that just wasn't the norm here. Though, admittedly, this was their reality and he could hardly judge what they saw proper as a fitting end. His role as a reaper was only to oversee their deaths and ensure that their souls were properly harvested. And these people were certainly his favorites to behold in their final moments. Rarely did they go out quietly, and seldom did they do anything small.

Especially not this particular client.

Undertaker had been watching this one for a while now. The words in shinobi's life script continued to write themselves though the ink had run dry long ago. The words were roughly engraved into the empty pages by an invisible quill, a testament to his refusal to die. Not that the reaper couldn't do anything to move the process along, it was just enormously entertaining. In his long years of service, he'd seen people who refused to die for various reasons, though most did relent once they realized there was no escaping it. This one, however, was special. This one lived beyond his bodily and mental means on willpower alone. He obviously craved death's embrace, but constantly pushed it away to ensure that his ambition became reality. The tragedy of it all was the ultimate selflessness of the goal. The warrior did not live on for himself, but for the one who would benefit the most by killing him. To an ordinary being with an ounce of compassion, these were tear jerking circumstances, but the whole drama tickled the reaper's macabre funny bone. Since he could get a good laugh out of it, he was more than happy to let it play out as the client wanted.

In fact, this particular client's tenacity was famous amongst shinigami, and the mortician had a running bet with Tsuzuki and Zarame of the Eastern branches as to when he would finally let go. If Undertaker won, he would get to relish the sight of Zarame indignantly modeling for the yearly Shinigami at Work Calendar...in a frilly pink dress. But if he lost, then he would have to share his beloved bonemeal cookie recipe with sugar-fiend Tsuzuki…Even with such high stakes, he wasn't too worried. There was no more need to guess when his script would finally end. If he had been listening correctly all this time, then today was the day the warrior would finally give up the ghost.

His little brother had finally come for him.

The shinigami smiled and stretched as he watched the epic final battle play out, floating between realities until he was required. It had been rather boring at first with the brothers simply standing across from one another and glaring, but the tension had been just enough to keep Undertaker interested. Their dramatic banter and declarations and (eventual) forward attacks brought a smile to his lips. It was all stupidly endearing. He'd spent enough time around his client to know just how much he hated doing these things to his hopelessly dense younger brother. If only the child would open his eyes to the truth…But, oh well, counseling wasn't in the reaper job description, and Undertaker doubted he could inspire anything in that stubborn boy short of intimidating him ferociously.

The brothers exchanged more banter he didn't entirely understand (He wasn't an acrobatic illusion wielding mage fighter...thing. The ability to wield his scythe was all the martial skill he needed to understand.) and finally exchanged blows that literally blew the roof off. They engaged in spectacular fire arts and aerial leaps that could never be possible in most realms, but were commonplace here; incidentally that was precisely why the reaper loved coming to this world.

It was getting tiresome having to move from inside the building to outside again and again, but he really couldn't complain seeing as he had no need to physically move to keep up with the fight. It was the principal of the thing. The younger one managed to harness lightning in another impressive show of force! For a moment Undertaker was sure he felt the quill fall for the last time. He could nearly taste Zarame's humiliation! But, no, the shinobi got up again.

Sigh.

A few transformations (as shape shifting beyond one's physical limits was also quite normal in this world) and obviously futile attacks later, and it seemed the young one had at last realized that he was but a teething puppy who had bitten off more than he could gum. Finally, the older one had cornered the boy. Undertaker took pleasure in seeing the shocked look of disbelief in the boy's eyes as the older brother menacingly stalked forward, hand outstretched ominously, a tiny smirk on his bloodied lips.

He reached forward, fingertips reaching for the boy's highly prized eyes…

Fear oozed from the younger one in dark whorls of energy as he awaited his fate…

Blood coated fingers hovered in front the boy's face…

And with the last ounce of life in him, the older one's fingers changed course and lightly tapped the boy's forehead. The pup's still intact eyes could only widen in surprise as his older brother lifelessly fell forward face first into the wall behind him before finally collapsing to the ground rather graciously for a corpse.

Undertaker applauded.

By Charron's Oar, that was as spectacular as he had hoped for! His grin only widened as he watched the younger one fall forward to lay prone next to his older brother's dead body. The boy was hurt, but far from dead, and the mortician had more pressing things to attend to.

He drifted forward and brought himself into their reality long enough to send his scythe through the client's body to release the Cinematic Record. Undertaker watched the reels with mild interest, noting that most of the memories centered around the younger brother. No surprise there, though he did find a bit more sympathy for the boy. (Almost an insignificant amount, but the older brother's obvious fondness for the younger warmed his heart just a touch…) Once the Record was finished, he reached into the corpse, grabbed the soul, flung it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and trotted back into inter-dimensional space to head back to the office.

Uchiha Itachi had finally died, and his soul was now in Undertaker's possession.

He'd been right.

The mortician briefly imagined the disappointed look on Tsuzuki's face and couldn't stop the cackling that ensued.

* * *

Undertaker smirked as he watched the soul of his most recent harvest stir. It was always interesting when they became aware, but not in a bad way. Once they got over the initial shock of death, they could actually be quite pleasant to converse with. As expected though, this one was not surprised by his death. Persephone's tears, the man was stoic! Undertaker hummed to himself as he watched the ex-warrior merely sit up and take in his ethereal surroundings. Still a hardened shinobi, he took note of the small boat and the strange waters they drifted upon, then turned his attention to the mortician-cum-ferryman.

"You are a shinigami," the ninja anticlimactically said.

"Most of the time I am," the silver haired madman replied cryptically.

"Then I am dead," Itachi murmured, obviously unconcerned by these circumstances.

"You certainly are," Undertaker responded with a smile.

"Finally," the shinobi sighed, his stoic expression melting in relief. "Sasuke? Is he…?"

"The little one that was with you, eh? I'll answer your question," the reaper hummed curiously. "But as you well know, information is never free."

The ninja's eyes narrowed in annoyed understanding. "What's your price?"

"I simply ask that you make me laugh." Undertaker answered with a vicious smirk.

"Why would I tell you a joke? I don't _do_ funny." Itachi said in all seriousness.

"Ah, but you're going to _do_ crazy," the silver haired madman murmured under his breath.

"…What?"

"Ah, just a slip of the tongue.".

"I'm sure," Itachi mumbled as he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why do I have to make you laugh? That is a strange toll."

"Whatever is the matter with it?" Undertaker asked innocently, arms spread wide. "It's not hard."

"…"

"…"

"That's what she said."

"…"

"…"

Undertaker stared for a moment, trying to verify that that was in fact what his client had just said, and that, yes he _had_ just gone there!

Itachi just stared expectantly.

Undertaker snorted and there was no stopping the insane laughter.

GYAHAHAHAHAAAAA!

The ridiculousness of the situation was more than enough to make him laugh till tears came to his eyes, but the fact that Itachi's mask of disinterest had remained completely unbroken was the last straw.

"P-perhaps-aha," Undertaker wheezed out, trying to control the giggles that kept erupting forth. "You know from experience! AHAHAHAAA!"

Itachi rolled his eyes and sighed in irritation. He was dead and he'd given the mad shinigami what he wanted. He didn't need this crap. "About Sasuke?"

The mortician had to catch his breath once more, wiping tears from his eyes as he let his laughter fade away.

"Oh, the child is fine. Though there is little you can do for his inherent stupidity. If you're so concerned for his well-being, I can offer you a way to watch over him still even in the afterlife."

"You want to make me a shinigami?" Itachi said blandly with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh no, nothing so cliché!" Undertaker tutted. "I'm offering you a job as an _assistant _shinigami! Less hassle in the long run, really."

"Your assistant, I presume?"

"Of course not! I am happily retired!" the madman grinned. "I only volunteer from time to time…this being one of those times. Though I do have one reaper in mind who could use someone as thorough as yourself on his team."

"Even as an assistant shinigami, I would have the opportunity to monitor Sasuke?"

"Certainly."

"And what if I choose interfere in his life?" Itachi challenged. Undertaker's smile only grew wider.

"Who am I to stop you? You're not _my_ responsibility."

"I assume there are consequences. What would happen should I choose not to take you up on your offer?"

"You will be judged and move on to wherever it is you need to go."

"And should I choose to take the job and interfere?"

"Your soul will be utterly and horrifically tortured then destroyed in the most excruciating manner possible," Undertaker smiled beatifically. "_If _you get caught, that is."

The shinobi briefly looked away, obviously weighing his options.

"I'll take the job," Itachi said with a nod.

"Oh, good," Undertaker smirked as he pushed them further down the Sanzu.

The mortician kept his grin plastered to his face. Today had been a magnificent day! He'd seen a fantastic battle, harvested a decidedly interesting soul, and he would get to see Zarame wallow in glorious glorious shame as Tsuzuki was sadistically denied his beloved sugar. Yes, twas magnificent. And to top it all off, he was bringing back a souvenir.

William was going to _love_ his present -er- new recruit.

+_+End+_+

In my head, it makes sense that shinigami from many fandoms could be part of one large bureaucratic pan-dimensional organization. Sure, their "reaping" skills are all slightly different, but they're just doing what their realities tell them to do. In the end, they all have the same basic goal/result, so why the hell not? The same goes for all the legends we associate with death i.e. hourglass vs. life script, rivers to the afterlife (Sanzu and Styx), etc. They all exist, so why not use them?

I also adore the idea of the pan-dimensional pan-deity shinigami also having their own jargon, i.e. their own versions of "goodness" or "my god!". Hence "By Charron's Oar!" and "Persephone's tears!" I was considering "Anubis' squeaky bone!" but that was just silly! LOL


End file.
